


With Whom You Fall In Love

by Krey9J



Series: One Royale Doctor by Krey [3]
Category: Casino Royale - Fandom, Fifty Shades of Grey - All Media Types, Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dialogue Heavy, Dr. John Flynn does not exist in the movies, Dr. John Flynn from 50s Darker book chap 17, Dr. John Flynn played by Hugh Dancy, Hannibal Extended Universe, Hannibal au???, Headcanon, M/M, Mentions of Hannibal's characters, More tags to be added, One Royale Doctor, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, being pretentious and write about wines when I only drink water, fic idea, fic prompt, references
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 18:26:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14170878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krey9J/pseuds/Krey9J
Summary: Featuring the rare pair One Royale Doctor. This fic is to spark interests in this rarepair, it doesn't actually have a plot, more a polished sum of ideas. Le Chiffre's getting to know his doctor more closely.HEADS UP: Krey9J and Time71091are different persons, we are sharing my (Krey9J's) account.





	With Whom You Fall In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlyingPancake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingPancake/gifts).



> See HC Master post for One Royale Doctor on  
> [Tumblr](https://krey-9-jorce.tumblr.com/post/172312144890/updating-headcanonsideas-collection-for-the-rare)  
> See HC Thread for One Royale Doctor on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/KeithQuJones/status/972258871354916864?s=19)
> 
> Thanks to my beta @viovivio on [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/dashboard/blog/viovivio/171020197013)  
> aka [FlyingPancake](https://ofourown.org/users/FlyingPancake)
> 
> Please @ me for anything you do for this pairing, I'll add your work to Tumblr Master Post.  
> Please add your work to AO3 Collection.

Hannibal The Cannibal.

Dr. Flynn was eager to read more about him.

The news broke out almost two and half a year ago when finally, the prestigious cannibalistic serial killer Dr. Lecter was reported to have been arrested in Wolftrap, Virginia. Specifically, the arrest took place at Will Graham’s property, an FBI profiler known, or rumoured prior to the catch for his exceptional gift in hunting killers by getting into their minds. His newest achievement, and the best one yet - claimed the existing articles, was no other than the most reputable-came-notorious doctor himself, Hannibal Lecter. _“Mind-hunter VS Man-eater: The arrest of Hannibal Lecter“_ \- was the headline of one of the most viewed articles, still bookmarked in Dr. Flynn’s web browser.

It was known previously, before the chase from the States to Italy and back, Hannibal Lecter had gutted Will Graham. From an article on Tattlecrime.com, an image of Will Graham lying in his hospital bed, his face covered in oxygen mask, his abdomen wrapped in bandage and his genitalia censored by a big black box. The reporter, Freddie Lounds, noted the big black box was a physical one, not digital censorship. Dr. Flynn raised his eyebrows and wondered why such detail was of importance, the explanation he thought of was probably for more words count.

Since its first appearance, the subject of Hannibal Lecter captured didn't really die down, and exploded again when just half a month ago, Dr. Frederick Chilton’s book “Hannibal The Cannibal” was released. It took Dr. Flynn two weeks to get his hand on a copy, it had been selling out too quickly. He had been nearly two-thirds through the book, though he sensed parts of it were exaggeration, it provided the insights of Dr. Lecter in an enticing and savagery manner. Anyhow, Dr. Chilton certainly knew how to publish a good book, a best-selling one by then.

Putting down the book for work, Dr. Flynn made sure to wipe any lingering thoughts out of his head. Once he was in section, his focus would be fully on the patient. After all, Dr. Flynn was well-known for his attentive dedication towards his patients, some of the women even mistook it as personal attraction and made advances at him. Dr. Flynn was a man of honesty, but for these cases, he handled their pursuits with a bit of deception. Flashing his worn-out wedding ring, he told them he just got divorced from his wife and still missing her achingly, therefore he wanted no romance for the time being. Just got divorced was the lie, they had been separated for three years, while missing her achingly was half the truth. The rest of the truth was, he was afraid of falling in love and getting hurt again. His expertise had helped him a great lot on how to cope, on rationalizing his choice for solitary, or else he might still be weeping his broken heart. He was well-past the nights of crying himself to sleep.

Not to imply he didn't go on dates or get laid. Given his outgoing nature and sexuality, he was a charmer. However, no man nor woman ever made themselves to his own bedroom. He cut them off once and for good, himself feeling only little sorry.

Pouring a cup of Earl Grey tea, his little ritual before going into section, he inhaled the distinctive aroma of mildly roasted black tea leaves and their flavorful touch of bergamot. Four-minute steep, in eighty-five degree Celsius hot water. In those short minutes he breathed in deep, and out, his eyes closed and finally when he tasted the ting on his tongue, rolling the liquid with satisfaction, he was composed. He needed to be, for dealing with troubling, swaying minds.

At the exact 7:00PM greeted Le Chiffre at his door. He didn't separate his office and his home, uncommon, but after he had invested in such a sizeable house, it had proven to be economical. The first floor was transformed into professional setting, one being the living room for guests, the smaller one being the waiting room for his patients and the biggest, cornering one being his office, where the therapy sections took place. He’d walk ahead of his patients to open his office door for them, welcoming them once more with his warm hospitable smile.

The surrounding behind his office was his backyard. There were green trees, bushes and squares of vegetables, some already existed when he bought the house, some he ordered, all watered and taken care of by himself. Two sides of his walls were replaced with panels of glass, the view of his backyard could be seen whole when the smoke-color cascading sheer shades pulled up. The design would be to soothe his patients, given the green, the sunlight in day time, or the outdoor golden lamps lit up in night time. Rarely would he arrange appointments after sunset, but Le Chiffre had requested and he had agreed to be understanding for his patient. When they had settled into their seats of facing sofa and couch, depended on the person would he start with small talks or have them go straight to their issues. With Le Chiffre it was more of the latter.

Twenty minutes into their conversation, he realized his focus might not be at his finest, which was unusual. Hannibal The Cannibal flashed in his mind every chance he met the sizzling spark in Le Chiffre’s eye of fiery amber, whose golden flame had him blinking at. He had never seen Dr. Lecter in person yet he felt they seemed to bear striking resemblance. Eyes of the lion, cheekbones sharp as its fangs, tearing into and pulling his attention with their majestic allure. Devouring the pleasure of peeking into such minds also meant his own being swept up and consumed.

Dr. Flynn was determined to finish his book after he had dedicated his best support to Le Chiffre. 

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

“Goodbye, Mr. Duran. I hope you, too, had the pleasure. Safe trip back.” - Dr. Flynn held out his hand to shake. Le Chiffre had yet to take it.

“You seem to incline on addressing me by my last name, despite I have proposed for otherwise.”

“And you seem to incline on your otherwise proposal despite I have addressed the matter that I’d like to abide to the nature of our relationship, which is professional and formality is part of professionalism.” - Dr. Flynn took his hand back to his side.

“There can always be exception. Given the changing characteristics.”

“Which are…?”

“Friendliness, and affection.”

Dr. Flynn stiffed. Affection? As in _mutual affection_? As if there were such element presented in their relationship so far?  
“... Friendliness I could see, but affection? How?” - both Dr. Flynn’s voice and ears perked at _"How"_.

“You like me as much as I like you, John.” - a smirk appeared between _"you"_ and _"John"_.

There came the throaty chuckle:  
“You are putting me in a situation where I can neither deny nor agree.”

“I’d suggest the easy one.”

“Again, which is?”

“Start calling by my name, John. Please.” - the request sounded a demand.

“... Tell me, why do you insist? You express the need for a shift in our relationship, to what extend?” - the chuckle faded into a firm, confronting tone.

“I want to be your friend, if I haven't already.” - Le Chiffre didn't smile but Dr. Flynn noted a trace of playfulness in his voice.

Dr. Flynn stopped to breathe. His fluttering lashes directed at Le Chiffre. _Mesmerizing_.

“I have chosen to be on my own long enough to make myself shudder at the possibility of friendship, a genuine one which I’m being offered...” - his voice went soft completely. Le Chiffre immediately knew Dr. Flynn was asking for his understanding. The matter all belonged to Dr. Flynn to decide, if he turned him down, then he was turned down and to be accepting it.

A shift in the air as Dr. Flynn hold up his fingers, for a split second Le Chiffre thought his cheek was to be cupped, he could feel how close to his skin his palm was, but they landed on his shoulder and traced down just slightly to his pectoral. He flinched under the touch, not of its suddenty but unimaginable warmth. A smile bloomed shyly on Dr. Flynn’s pinkish, very close to rosy lips, as heated as his tenderhearted touch.

“What do friends do to start?” - Dr. Flynn said fondly with a hint of rejoice.

Le Chiffre’s response was a heart beat slow:  
“... Doing casual things with each other's company?” - _Do they?_

“What do you suggest, as a friend?” - Dr. Flynn gave his pectoral a friendly tap. He was also grinning then.

“If you ask me… I’d like to hear you talk.” - It was Le Chiffre’s turn to blink at the shine in Dr. Flynn’s greyish cerulean orbs.

Dr. Flynn’s palm left his pectoral to hide his own laughing mouth. A song to make his chest hummed in return, those little chokes in his laughter:  
“You already did! For a while now.”

“No, not you responding to what I have to say. I want to hear about you, know about you.” - Le Chiffre hold his gaze:  
“You have listened to me enough. Now let me return the favor, as a friend.”

Dr. Flynn had stopped laughing. He turned himself to a direction not Le Chiffre’s, both hands in his pants’ pockets, thinking. This angle had the neon light bounced on the bridge of his curved nose, the flat of his flushed cheeks and the round of his brilliant blue-grey orbs. _Breathtaking_ , Le Chiffre might have taken a breather. It took Dr. Flynn some long seconds before he turned back to face him again. The smaller man tipped up his chin to match the other’s gaze filled with anticipation.

“Would you mind keeping me company for the rest of this evening? If it doesn't cost you a hassle, of course.” - Dr. Flynn offered his hand to take, in the manner of a hand to shake.

 _Same gesture, opposite implications, be careful to choose which one to take_. Le Chiffre had been patient enough for the most desirable intimation to present itself, rarely did it - the _invitation_ to stay, to know, to get along. Wasting nothing, in one swift movement he clasped the out-reaching hand with his own, even giving it a tug as he took a little more than one step closer, narrowing the distance between their bodies and their facing hot breath. A faint gasp presented Dr. Flynn, he was blushing even more. Le Chiffre drank in the sight and decided he would like to taste it more often. _Sweet_.

“What do you have for a drink?” - Le Chiffre asked even when he needn't any other drink.

“Tea, coffee, or pomegranate juice.” - Dr. Flynn cocked an eyebrow. “But I’d figure none of that would catch your fancy. How about a bottle _Bordeaux Supérieur_ , or we’ll see what else I have in my inventory?.” - Dr. Flynn separated their hands and stepped aside, indicating they go outside. This would be the first time Le Chiffre set foot to other rooms in the doctor’s substantial property.

“Shall we? Lead the way, John.” - Le Chiffre flashed his toothy grin and followed the good doctor, their heels echoed on the floor, their sounds farther and farther, leaving behind them the office door closed quietly.

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

“Put these on, I don't wear shoes around the house, except for the downstairs area where I have my guests.” - Dr. Flynn opened a closet of footwear, took out two pairs of plush slippers and threw one down beside Le Chiffre’s feet. “And put your shoes in here, too.” - he gestured to the still opened closet while bending down to take off his own, the socks as well. Le Chiffre took a close look at it: five shelves, counting from top to bottom, the top one was empty, the second level holding dress shoes, the third and fourth for casual shoes, sneakers and sandals, the last for two types of boots - rain and winter ones, while the right drawer at the bottom for hoarding the slippers, the content in the left one had yet to be seen. Well-equipped for all situations, but not actually excessive, Le Chiffre remarked.

“You have quite a collection of footwear, John. What's there, in the left drawer?” - asked Le Chiffre as he placed his shoes on the third shelf.

“You really want to know everything about me, don't you?” - Dr. Flynn bent down again to pull the drawer, the action bared the nape of his neck. As Le Chiffre was standing right beside him then, he spotted little moles scattering on the seemingly smooth skin. Counting moles on his skin would be the equivalent of counting stars in the sky, but the nightly sky surely wouldn't look as soft and as deliciously tanned.

“There you go, flip-flops.” - colorful ones nonetheless. “They are lightweight and I don't worry about wetting them when I go out the yards.” - supplied Dr. Flynn.

“Of course. Do I take off my socks as well? - Dr. Flynn glanced at Le Chiffre’s feet as he pushed the drawer back in.

“Up to you, I do.” - pointed Dr. Flynn at his own feet already slipped into the slippers.

“Then I won't.” - his socked feet slipping into the slippers. They fitted quite nicely.

“This way, please” - Dr. Flynn started to move to the left, leading to his kitchen.

“May I asked why you don't have your visitors change into slippers in your house when you clearly would prefer them to?” - asked Le Chiffre just behind his back.

“One, it would be a hassle for them, taking off and putting on shoes every time. Two, some of the women even expected me to pay compliments on their luxurious heels, wouldn't I deny them the pleasure?”

Dr. Flynn switched on the light for his kitchen, first step in it informed: he did cook. The sight of it was clean and neat, but not at all polished - the marble center island shone with slight scratches on its surface; pans, saucepans and other equipments hung on hooks on the wall had worn-out and burned bottoms; knives block placed within arm-reach from the cook top; the oven with mittens hung near and the sizable side-by-side refrigerator.

Within three strides, Dr. Flynn opened his fridge, obviously filled with fresh ingredients and various labels of bottles and cans, pulled out two small bottles of water and tossed one at Le Chiffre’s direction.  
“I have beers.” - he said before he unscrewed the cap and lifted up his throat to drink the water.

“Thanks for the water. I'm more eager to get a taste of your wine selection. The beers could be of use next time.” - Le Chiffre set the water bottle down on the kitchen island.

“Anyway, I’ll still have one.” - Dr. Flynn put the bottles back into the fridge and took out a can of beer.  
Carlsberg, said the label.

“I just bought this brand yesterday. I like their adverts, the concept of _"Hygge"_...” - Dr. Flynn snapped the seal on the can and lifted it up his mouth, pausing for a second to continue: “... makes me want to be a Dane.” - he drowned the liquid down his throat then breathed out a satisfactory “hah”.  
“Tastes OK.” - his verdict for the taste of the drink - “Not as good as it seemed when the handsome silver-fox presented it but, OK.” - he took another sip.

“Does being an Englishman in New York bring anything to your mind?” - Le Chiffre rubbed his hand across the surface of the island, feeling the cool, high quality marble underneath his skin.

“Not really, I don't know what that means.” - Dr. Flynn’s eyes followed the movement of Le Chiffre’s hand.  
“In fact, I don't even know what being an Englishman means? Is it having a dry sense of humor or drinking tea for the whole day?... Anyway, some puzzles I don't care to find out.” - he closed his eyes and pour the rest of the liquid into his throat, crushed the can between his palms and threw it into the trash bin marked “Recyclable Waste.”

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, let’s show you the wine.” - he placed his hand on Le Chiffre’s shoulder from behind and gently pushed him forward to the door at the kitchen’s corner. Le Chiffre, of course, smiled at the contact.

The door opened to a niche space, not wide enough to be considered a room. Dr. Flynn switched on the lights, golden illuminations, revealed the space almost blanked of objects, with only hung items on four sides of the walls. The first pair of opposite walls hung a pouch of dried flowers and a clock. The other pair hung two paintings, one was William Blake’s _“The Vestibule of Hell and the Souls mustering to cross the Acheron”_ and the opposite was one of the versions of Peter Paul Rubens’s _“Assumption of the Virgin”_. The space was air-conditioned, much cooler than other parts of the house. It felt dryer, too. Dr. Flynn walked towards and dug his hand into the pouch on one wall, searching for something. Out, was a small key. He crouched down in the middle of the room and inserted the key into a small and hardly visible hole near the tip of his slipper on the floor. He gave it a powerful twist.

A ‘click’ from the floor. _It was a trap door_.  
“Bingo.” - Dr. Flynn retrieved the key and pushed the part of the floor which was actually a trap door flat-sideway and revealed the sumptuous wine cellar beneath.

The cellar was a smaller than the size of the space it was hidden into, only one person can come down at a time by climbing a not very long ladder. Three sides of it was wine racks, filled with a variety of red and white wine bottles of different brands. Dr. Flynn climbed down to the cellar and talked back to Le Chiffre with a loud voice:  
“I’ll read the names for you to choose, OK?”

“Yes, John.” - Le Chiffre replied as loudy.

“Let's see what we have here…” - Dr. Flynn glided his fingertips along the bottle heads - “Ah, the Bordeaux I told you previously is the _Château Feret Lambert Bordeaux Supérieur_. It’s a full-bodied with fruity taste, a concentrated experience.” - he pulled out the bottle from the middle rack.  
“Or, we could have a bottle of _Montoya Merlot_ for a smoother and lighter taste.” - said Dr. Flynn as he glanced up to another bottle on his upper left rack.  
“If you're craving something interesting, maybe we could try this elegant but spicing _Valserrano Rioja Gran Reserva_.” - he rubbed its body with his free hand, it was near the bottom of the middle rack.  
“Or, the _Gramercy Syrah_ if you're feeling _really_ adventurous.” - he made a sharp turn to his right and landed his eyes on the stated wine.

“Are you listening to me?” - almost shouted did he talk back up to Le Chiffre.

“I do, John.” - Le Chiffre gave a clear reply.

“Then which do you prefer?” - Dr. Flynn raised his head over his shoulder to look at Le Chiffre, waiting for a decision.

“All of them.” - stated Le Chiffre _very_ clear.

Dr. Flynn chuckled hearing that, which echoed across the surrounding space of his wine cellar. Le Chiffre, again, felt a tug in his chest for those choking sounds.

“I don't want to waste opening all my expensive wine in one night, and I certainly don't want _you_ blacked out at my place, Jean.” - he teased, loud and solid.

Never before heard Le Chiffre his name from his doctor’s accented voice so strong, so audible and so _friendly_. He measly flinched at the word as he tried to keep his composed look. Getting a hang of himself, he brought a smile to his lips, making sure Dr. Flynn could see it wholly.

“Decide for me when I can't, John. You know your wine, I trust you to.” - the compliment earned him the distinctive twitches of Dr. Flynn’s ears. He turned to face the wine racks again, seemingly to hide his blooming blush. He stilled for a minute before reaching out his hand and grabbed a bottle from the middle level of the wine rack on the right.

“Let's celebrate ourselves with the classic, unbeatable experience named _Cabernet Sauvignon_. This bottle I have is Palmaz’s.” - he looked up to Le Chiffre with his glistening big round orbs reflecting golden lights, expecting approval.

“Splendid.” - appraised Le Chiffre genuinely. An excellent choice for their first evening together. “Now come up here.” - he held out his hand to Dr. Flynn, as a gesture of welcoming. 

Dr. Flynn climbed up the ladder with a bottle in his hand and a grin on his face. He passed the bottle to Le Chiffre at the surface, pulling himself up, he was back on the floor. He turned around and closed the lid of the wine cellar, twisting the key in the little hole again, a click indicating the opening to the cellar locked, just like how it was at first.

“The key can open and lock the trap door from both inside and outside the wine cellar. And it's the only tool to open. Without it, you’d have to smash the floor until it's break-open, which will trigger the alarm equipped in the core of the trap door itself.” - explained Dr. Flynn about the features of his wine hiding secret chamber. He then stood up and set the key back into its original hiding place.  
“The glasses are on the rack in the dining room, it's adjacent to the kitchen you could see.” - instructed Dr. Flynn as he switched off the lights and pointed Le Chiffre’s at the mentioned direction.

Le Chiffre walked past the kitchen island and through the hollow of the wall to reach the dining room, switching the lights on by himself. Another set of not just gold illuminations but also a minimalist chandelier, a modern taste to a conventional setting.

Le Chiffre saw the wine glass rack attached to one wall, right on the rack there was a couple of red wine bottles. His left eyes twitched as he picked up of one of them to observe the label. Good but certainly not as good as Dr. Flynn’s secret selection, he assessed. He placed the bottle back, firmly in place, and carefully took two red wine glasses with him out of the room, remembering to switch off the lights on his way.

Stepping out of the kitchen to the hall again, he swept his gaze around to look for Dr. Flynn. A calling voice raised from the opposite of the hall:  
“In here.”

Le Chiffre walked along the way, passing the shoes closet, and reached the room where Dr. Flynn had already taken a seat, or lying, stretching his body and both legs on one part of the corner sofa. Le Chiffre stilled for a second to admire the toes digging into the soft fabric, the long of the feet they were attached to, both the strong, bony ankles and the sight of curling hair above the ankles as the movement had the pants openings slightly pulled up. He licked his lips and thought what a great decision that Dr. Flynn took off his socks. He strayed a thought in his mind - what if his toes would dig just like so into the sheet of his bed.

He noticed on the low table set a bucket of ice and corkscrew. As he put down the glasses on the matte surface, a welcome greeted him:  
“Welcome to _my_ living room.” - the stress was made clear - “This is where I hang out.” - continued Dr. Flynn with his description of the place.

“Please, enjoy yourself.” - he signaled Le Chiffre to sit down - “and tell me to fetch something to taste with the wine if you’d like to, I usually enjoy the wonder just by itself.” - the generous tone he always offered to his guests.

“No, thank you, I'll have only the wine, too.”  
“The partial house tour has already been leaving me with so many questions, John.” - seated Le Chiffre, he tore the wrapping on the bottle head, picked up the corkscrew and applied it to the cork, twisting into it firmly.

“You are interesting, John. I said it then and I'm saying it again now, from what you have revealed to me.” - the corkscrew then sank deep into the cork.

”I can't wait to know more about you.” - ‘poc’, the cork pulled out of the bottle, the aromatic fruity tang of the wine gracefully streamed out as Le Chiffre served it into the glasses. He stood up with one between his fingers and directed himself to Dr. Flynn, who was pulling himself up on one elbow, the other arm holding out and high to receive his glass of wonder.

A brief second touched their fingers, met their gazes. Le Chiffre purposefully released the glass a second late so the sensitive skin of Dr. Flynn’s fingertips could glide against his. He took half a step back, eyes did not left his doctor’s, lips curled a smile he knew would be remarked as _attractive_.

“Enjoy your drink, John.” - his own heavy-accented words came out a whisper, provoking Dr. Flynn’s ears to weakly twitch, again.

A heart beat slower, undoubtedly, was Dr. Flynn’s response:  
“Ah, thank you…” - he could still feel the pleasant sensations on his fingertips. Heat traveled under his skin, into his veins to reach his rapidly beating heart.  
He wet his lips and try to let it pass.

They gave their glasses a swirl or two, holding them up to their nostrils and inhaled the exquisite scent at almost the same time, then took a sip of the dark rich red liquid at the exact same moment, a gulping sound faintly heard in each of their throats. They both paused to admire the flavor and the companionship they were sharing, as deep and tasteful as the drop of liquid staining their lips, leaving a delightful aftertaste on the back of their tongues. _Sweet_.

They both let out a satisfying breath, blended of heated interests and wine. They looked straight into each other's otherworldly stones of sparkling fire and shining sea, licking their plummy wet lips and wonder if they were feeling the same.

Their evening had _yet_ to start.

_ With Whom…, #One Royale Doctor _


End file.
